27. ‘You Can’t Imagine it Unless You’ve been There’
My Godda bless, never I see sucha people.
Signor Piozzi, quoted by Cecilia Thrale
In the Honeycomb, Bigwig and Holly were waiting to begin the second meeting since the loss of Hazel. As the air began to cool, the rabbits woke and first one and then another came down the runs that led from the smaller burrows. All were subdued and doubtful at heart. Like the pain of a bad wound, the effect of a deep shock takes some while to be felt. When a child is told, for the first time in his life, that a person he has known is dead, although he does not disbelieve it, he may well fail to comprehend it and later ask – perhaps more than once – where the dead person is and when he is coming back. When Pipkin had planted in himself, like some sombre tree, the knowledge that Hazel would never return, his bewilderment exceeded his grief: and this bewilderment he saw on every side among his companions. Faced with no crisis of action and with nothing to prevent them from continuing their life in the warren as before, the rabbits were nevertheless overcome by the conviction that their luck was gone. Hazel was dead and Holly’s expedition had totally failed. What would follow?
Holly, gaunt, his staring pelt full of goose-grass and fragments of burdock, was talking with the three hutch rabbits and reassuring them as best he could. No one could say now that Hazel had thrown away his life in a foolhardy prank. The two does were the only gain that anyone had made; the warren’s only asset. But they were plainly so ill-at-ease in their new surroundings that Holly was already contending against his own belief that there was little to be hoped for from them. Does who are upset and on edge tend to be infertile; and how were these does to make themselves at home in strange conditions and a place where everyone was lost so poorly in his thoughts? They would die, perhaps, or wander away. He buckled once more to the task of explaining that he was sure better times lay ahead; and as he did so, felt himself the least convinced of any.
Bigwig had sent Acorn to see whether there was anyone still to come. Acorn returned to say that Strawberry felt too ill and that he could find neither Blackberry nor Fiver.
‘Well, leave Fiver,’ said Bigwig. ‘Poor fellow, he’ll feel better by himself for a time, I dare say.’
‘He’s not in his burrow, though,’ said Acorn.
‘Never mind,’ said Bigwig. But the thought came to him, ‘Fiver and Blackberry? Could they have left the warren without telling anyone? If they have, what will happen when the others get to know?’ Should he ask Kehaar to go and look for them while there was still light? But if Kehaar found them, what then? They could not be compelled to return. Or if they were, what good would that do, if they wanted to be gone? At that moment Holly began to speak and everyone became quiet.
‘We all know we’re in a mess,’ said Holly,’ and I suppose before long we shall have to talk about what’s best to be done. But I thought that first of all I ought to tell you how it is that we four – Silver, Buckthorn, Strawberry and I – have come back without any does. You don’t have to remind me that when we set out, everyone thought it was going to be straightforward. And here we are, one rabbit sick, one wounded and nothing to show for it. You’re all wondering why.’
‘No one’s blaming you, Holly,’ said Bigwig.
‘I don’t know whether I’m to blame or not,’ replied Holly. ‘But you’ll tell me that when you’ve heard the story.
‘That morning when we left, it was good weather for hlessil on the move and we all felt there was no hurry. It was cool, I remember, and looked as if it would be some time before the day got really bright and cloudless. There’s a farm not far away from the other end of this wood, and although there were no men about so early, I didn’t fancy going that way, so we kept up on high ground on the evening side. We were all expecting to come to the edge of the down, but there isn’t any steep edge as there is on the north. The upland just goes on and on, open, dry and lonely. There’s plenty of cover for rabbits – standing corn, hedges and banks – but no real woodland: just great, open fields of light soil with big, white flintstones. I was hoping that we might find ourselves in the sort of country we used to know – meadows and woods – but we didn’t. Anyhow, we found a track with a good, thick hedge along one side and we decided to follow that. We took it easy and stopped a good deal, because I was taking care to avoid running into elil. I’m sure it’s bad country for stoats as well as foxes, and I hadn’t much idea what we were going to do if we met one.’
‘I’m pretty certain we did pass close to a weasel,’ said Silver. ‘I could smell it. But you know how it is with elil – if they’re not actually hunting they often take no notice of you. We left very little scent, and buried our hraka as though we were cats.’
‘Well, before ni-Frith,’ went on Holly, ‘the track brought us to a long, thin wood running right across the way we were going. These downland woods are queer, aren’t they? This was no thicker than the one above us now, but it stretched as far as we could see either way, in a dead straight line. I don’t like straight lines: men make them. And sure enough, we found a road beside this wood. It was a very lonely, empty road, but all the same, I didn’t want to hang about there, so we went straight through the wood and out the other side. Kehaar spotted us in the fields beyond and told us to alter our direction. I asked him how we were getting on and he said we were about half-way, so I thought we might as well start looking for somewhere to lie up for the night. I didn’t fancy the open and in the end we made scrapes in the bottom of a kind of little pit we found. Then we had a good feed and passed the night very well.
‘I don’t think we need tell you everything about the journey. It came on to rain just after the morning feed and there was a nasty, cold wind with it, so we stayed where we were until after ni-Frith. It brightened up then and we went on. The going wasn’t very nice because of the wet, but by early evening I reckoned we ought to be near the place. I was looking round when a hare came through the grass and I asked him whether he knew of a big warren close by.
‘ “Efrafa?” he asked. “Are you going to Efrafa?”*
‘ “If that’s what it’s called,” I answered.
‘ “Do you know it?”
‘ “No,” I said, “we don’t. We want to know where it is.”
‘ “Well,” he said, “my advice to you is to run, and quickly.”
‘I was just wondering what to make of that, when suddenly three big rabbits come over the bank, just the way I did that night when I came to arrest you, Bigwig: and one of them said, “Can I see your marks?”
‘ “Marks?” I said. “What marks? I don’t understand.”
‘ “You’re not from Efrafa?”
‘ “No,” I said, “we’re going there. We’re strangers.”
‘ “Will you come with me?” No “Have you come far?” or “Are you wet through?” or anything like that.
‘So then these three rabbits took us off down the bank and that was how we came to Efrafa, as they call it. And I’d better try and tell you something about it, so that you’ll know what a dirty little bunch of snivelling hedge-scrapers we are here.
‘Efrafa is a big warren – a good deal bigger than the one we came from – the Threarah’s, I mean. And the one fear of every rabbit in it is that men are going to find them and infect them with the white blindness. The whole warren is organized to conceal its existence. The holes are all hidden and the Owsla have every rabbit in the place under orders. You can’t call your life your own: and in return you have safety – if it’s worth having at the price you pay.
‘As well as the Owsla, they have what they call a Council, and each of the Council rabbits has some special thing he looks after. One looks after feeding: another’s responsible for the ways in which they keep hidden: another looks after breeding, and so on. As far as the ordinary rabbits are concerned, only a certain number can be above ground at one time. Every rabbit is marked when he’s a kitten: they bite them, deep, under the chin or in a haunch or fore-paw. Then they can be told by the scar for the rest of their lives. You mustn’t be found above ground unless it’s the right time of day for your Mark.’
‘Who’s to stop you?’ growled Bigwig.
‘That’s the really frightening part. The Owsla – well, you can’t imagine it unless you’ve been there. The Chief is a rabbit named Woundwort: General Woundwort, they call him. I’ll tell you more about him in a minute. Then under him there are captains – each one in charge of a Mark – and each captain has his own officers and sentries. There’s a Mark captain with his band on duty at every time of the day and night. If a man happens to come anywhere near, which isn’t often, the sentries give warning long before he comes close enough to see anything. They give warning of elil too. They prevent anyone dropping hraka except in special places in the ditches, where it’s buried. And if they see any rabbit above ground whom they don’t recognize as having the right to be there, they ask to see his mark. Frith knows what happens if he can’t explain himself – but I can guess pretty well. Rabbits in Efrafa quite often go days at a time without the sight of Frith. If their Mark’s on night silflay then they feed by night, wet or fine, warm or cold. They’re all used to talking, playing and mating in the burrows underground. If a Mark can’t silflay at their appointed time for some reason or other – say there was a man working somewhere near – that’s just too bad. They miss their turn till next day.’
‘But surely it alters them very much, living like that?’ asked Dandelion.
‘Very much indeed,’ replied Holly. ‘Most of them can’t do anything but what they’re told. They’ve never been out of Efrafa and never smelt an enemy. The one aim of every rabbit in Efrafa is to get into the Owsla, because of the privileges: and the one aim of everyone in the Owsla is to get into the Council. The Council have the best of everything. But the Owsla have to keep very strong and tough. They take it in turn to do what they call Wide Patrol. They go out over the country – all round the place – living in the open for days at a time. It’s partly to find out anything they can, and partly to train them and make them tough and cunning. Any hlessil they find they pick up and bring back to Efrafa. If they won’t come, they kill them. They reckon hlessil a danger, because they may attract the attention of men. The Wide Patrols report back to General Woundwort and the Council decide what to do about anything new that they think may be dangerous.’
‘They missed you on the way in, then?’ said Bluebell.
‘Oh no, they didn’t I We learned later that some time after we’d been brought in by this rabbit – Captain Campion – a runner arrived from a Wide Patrol to say that they’d picked up the track of three or four rabbits coming towards Efrafa from the north; and were there any orders? He was sent back to say that we were safely under control.
‘Anyway, this Captain Campion took us down to a hole in the ditch. The mouth of the hole was a bit of old earthenware pipe and if a man had pulled it out, the opening would have fallen in and showed no trace of the run inside. And there he handed us over to another Captain – because he had to go back above ground for the rest of his spell of duty, you see. We were taken to a big burrow and told to make ourselves at home.
‘There were other rabbits in the burrow and it was by listening to them and asking questions that I learnt most of what I’ve been telling you. We got talking to some of the does and I made friends with one called Hyzenthlay.* I told her about our problem here and why we’d come, and then she told us about Efrafa. When she’d finished I said, “It sounds terrible. Has it always been like this?” She said no, her mother had told her that in years gone by the warren had been elsewhere and much smaller: but when General Woundwort came, he had made them move to Efrafa and then he’d worked out this whole system of concealment and perfected it until rabbits in Efrafa were as safe as stars in the sky. “Most rabbits here die of old age, unless the Owsla kill them off,” she said. “But the trouble is, there are more rabbits now than the warren can hold. Any fresh digging that’s allowed has to be done under Owsla supervision and they do it terribly slowly and carefully. It all has to be hidden, you see. We’re overcrowded and a lot of rabbits don’t get above ground as much as they need to. And for some reason there are not enough bucks and too many does. A lot of us have found we can’t produce litters, because of the overcrowding, but no one is ever allowed to leave. Only a few days ago, several of us does went to the Council and asked whether we could form an expedition to start a new warren somewhere else. We said we’d go far, far away – as far away as they liked. But they wouldn’t hear of it – not on any account. Things can’t go on like this – the system’s breaking down. But it doesn’t do to be heard talking about it.”
‘Well, I thought, this sounds hopeful. Surely they won’t object to our proposals? We only want to take a few does and no bucks. They’ve got more does than there’s room for and we want to take them farther away than anyone here can ever have been.
‘A little later another Captain came and said we were to come with him to the Council meeting.
‘The Council meet in a kind of big burrow. It’s long and rather narrow – not as good as this Honeycomb of ours, because they’ve got no tree-roots to make a wide roof. We had to wait outside while they were talking about all sorts of other things. We were just one piece of daily Council business: “Strangers apprehended.” There was another rabbit waiting and he was under special guard – Owslafa, they call them: the Council police. I’ve never been near anyone so frightened in my life – I thought he’d go mad with fear. I asked one of these Owslafa what was the matter and he said that this rabbit, Blackavar, had been caught trying to run away from the warren. Well, they took him inside and first of all we heard the poor fellow trying to explain himself, and then he was crying and begging for mercy: and when he came out they’d ripped both his ears to shreds, worse than this one of mine. We were all sniffing at him, absolutely horror-stricken; but one of the Owslafa said, “You needn’t make such a fuss. He’s lucky to be alive.” So while we were chewing on that, someone came out and said the Council were ready for us.
‘As soon as we got in, we were put up in front of this General Woundwort: and he really is a grim customer. I don’t think even you’d match up to him, Bigwig. He’s almost as big as a hare and there’s something about his mere presence that frightens you, as if blood and fighting and killing were all just part of the day’s work to him. I thought he’d begin by asking us some questions about who we were and what we wanted, but he didn’t do anything like that. He said, “I’m going to explain the rules of the warren and the conditions on which you’ll live here. You must listen carefully, because the rules are to be kept and any breaking of them will be punished.” So then I spoke up at once and said that there was a misunderstanding. We were an embassy, I said, come from another warren to ask for Efrafa’s goodwill and help. And I went on to explain that all we wanted was their agreement to our persuading a few does to come back with us. When I’d finished, General Woundwort said that it was out of the question: there was nothing to discuss. I replied that we’d like to stay with them for a day or two and try to persuade them to change their mind.
‘ “Oh yes,” he said, “you’ll stay. But there’ll be no further occasion for you to take up the Council’s time – for the next few days at any rate.”
‘I said that seemed very hard. Our request was surely a reasonable one. And I was just going to ask them to consider one or two things from our point of view, when another of the Councillors – a very old rabbit – said, “You seem to think you’re here to argue with us and drive a bargain. But we’re the ones to say what you’re going to do.”
‘I said they should remember that we were representing another warren, even if it was smaller than theirs. We thought of ourselves as their guests. And it was only when I’d said that, that I realized with a horrible shock that they thought of us as their prisoners: or as good as prisoners, whatever they might call it.
‘Well, I’d rather say no more about the end of that meeting. Strawberry tried all he could to help me. He spoke very well about the decency and comradeship natural to animals. “Animals don’t behave like men,” he said. “If they have to fight, they fight; and if they have to kill, they kill. But they don’t sit down and set their wits to work to devise ways of spoiling other creatures’ lives and hurting them. They have dignity and animality.”
‘But it was all no use. At last we fell silent and General Woundwort said, “The Council can’t spare any more time for you now, and I shall have to leave it to your Mark Captain to tell you the rules. You’ll join the Right Flank Mark under Captain Bugloss. Later, we shall see you again and you’ll find us perfectly friendly and helpful to rabbits who understand what’s expected of them.”
‘So then the Owsla took us out to join the Right Flank Mark. Apparently Captain Bugloss was too busy to see us and I took care to keep out of his way, because I thought he might want to start marking us then and there. But soon I began to understand what Hyzenthlay had meant when she said the system wasn’t working properly any more. The burrows were overcrowded – at least by our standards. It was easy to escape attention. Even in one Mark the rabbits don’t all know each other. We found places in a burrow and tried to get some sleep, but early in the night we were woken and told to silflay. I thought there might be a chance to run for it in the moonlight, but there seemed to be sentries everywhere. And besides the sentries, the Captain kept two runners with him, whose job was to rush off at once in any direction from which an alarm might be given.
‘When we’d fed we went underground again. Nearly all the rabbits were very subdued and docile. We avoided them, because we meant to escape if we could and we didn’t want to get known. But try as I would, I couldn’t think of a plan.
‘We fed again some time before ni-Frith the next day, and then it was back underground. The time dragged terribly. At last – it must have been as evening was coming on – I joined a little group of rabbits listening to a story. And do you know, it was “The King’s Lettuce”? The rabbit who was telling it was nowhere near as good as Dandelion, but I listened all the same, just for something to do. And it was when he got to the bit where El-ahrairah dresses up and pretends to be the doctor at King Darzin’s palace, that I suddenly had an idea. It was a very risky one, but I thought there was a chance that it might work, simply because every rabbit in Efrafa usually does what he’s told without question. I’d been watching Captain Bugloss and he struck me as a nice enough fellow, conscientious and a bit weak and rather harassed by having more to do than he could really cope with.
‘That night, when we were called to silflay, it was pitch dark and raining; but you don’t bother about a little thing like that in Efrafa – you’re only too glad to get out and get some food. All the rabbits trooped up; and we waited until the very last. Captain Bugloss was out on the bank, with two of his sentries. Silver and the others went out in front of me and then I came up to him panting as if I’d been running.
‘ “Captain Bugloss?”
‘ “Yes?” he said. “What is it?”
‘ “You’re wanted by the Council, at once.”
‘ “Why, what do you mean?” he asked. “What for?”
‘ “No doubt they’ll tell you that when they see you,” I answered. “I shouldn’t keep them waiting if I were you.”
‘ “Who are you?” he said. “You’re not one of the Council runners. I know them all. What Mark are you?”
‘ “I’m not here to answer your questions,” I said. “Shall I go back and tell them you won’t come?”
‘He looked doubtful at that and I made as if I were going. But then, all of a sudden, he said, “Very well” – he looked awfully frightened, poor fellow – “but who’s to take over here while I’m gone?”
‘ “I am,” I said. “General Woundwort’s orders. But come back quickly. I don’t want to hang about half the night doing your job.” He scuttled off. I turned to the other two and said, “Stay here: and look alive, too. I’m going round the sentries.”
‘Well, then the four of us ran off into the dark and sure enough after we’d gone a little way two sentries popped up and tried to stop us. We all piled straight into them. I thought they’d run, but they didn’t. They fought like mad and one of them tore Buckthorn all down the nose. But of course there were four of us; and in the end we broke past them and simply tore across the field. We had no idea which way we were going, what with the rain and the night: we just ran. I think the reason why the pursuit was a bit slow off the mark was because poor old Bugloss wasn’t there to give the orders. Anyway, we had a fair start. But presently we could hear that we were being followed: and what was worse, we were being overtaken.
‘The Efrafan Owsla are no joke, believe me. They’re all picked for size and strength and there’s nothing they don’t know about moving in wet and darkness. They’re all so much afraid of the Council that they’re not afraid of anything else. It wasn’t long before I knew we were in trouble. The patrol that was after us could actually follow us in the dark and rain faster than we could run away and before long they were close behind. I was just going to tell the others that there was nothing for it but to turn and fight when we came to a great, steep bank that seemed to slope almost straight up into the air. It was steeper than this hillside below us here, and the slope seemed to be regular, as if men had made it.
‘Well, there was no time to think about it, so up we went. It was covered with rough grass and bushes. I don’t know how far it was to the top exactly, but I should guess it was as high as a well-grown rowan tree – perhaps a bit higher. When we got to the top we found ourselves on small, light stones that shifted as we ran on them. That gave us away completely. Then we came upon broad, flat pieces of wood and two great, fixed bars of metal that made a noise – a kind of low, humming noise in the dark. I was just saying to myself, “This is men’s work all right,” when I fell over the other side. I hadn’t realized that the whole top of the bank was only a very short distance across and the other side was just as steep. I went head over heels down the bank in the dark and fetched up against an elder bush: and there I lay.’
Holly stopped and fell silent, as though pondering on what he remembered. At last he said,
‘It’s going to be very hard to describe to you what happened next. Although all four of us were there, we don’t understand it ourselves. But what I’m going to say now is the cold truth. Lord Frith sent one of his great Messengers to save us from the Efrafan Owsla. Each one of us had fallen over the edge of the bank in one place or another. Buckthorn, who was half-blinded with his own blood, went down almost to the bottom. I’d picked myself up and was looking back at the top. There was just enough light in the sky to see the Efrafans if they came over. And then – then an enormous thing – I can’t give you any idea of it – as big as a thousand hrududil – bigger – came rushing out of the night. It was full of fire and smoke and light and it roared and beat on the metal lines until the ground shook beneath it. It drove in between us and the Efrafans like a thousand thunderstorms with lightning. I tell you, I was beyond being afraid. I couldn’t move. The flashing and the noise – they split the whole night apart. I don’t know what happened to the Efrafans: either they ran away or it cut them down. And then suddenly it was gone and we heard it disappearing, rattle and bang, rattle and bang, far away in the distance. We were completely alone.
‘For a long time I couldn’t move. At last I got up and found the others, one by one, in the dark. None of us said a word. At the bottom of the slope we discovered a kind of tunnel that went right through the bank from one side to the other. We crept into it and came out on the side where we’d gone up. Then we went a long way through the fields, until I reckoned we must be well clear of Efrafa. We crawled into a ditch and slept there, all four of us, until morning. There was no reason why anything shouldn’t have come and killed us, and yet we knew we were safe. You may think it’s a wonderful thing to be saved by Lord Frith in his power. How many rabbits has that happened to, I wonder? But I tell you, it was far more frightening than being chased by the Efrafans. Not one of us will forget lying on that bank in the rain, while the fire-creature went by above our heads. Why did it come on our account? That’s more than we shall ever know.
‘The next morning I cast around a bit and soon I knew which was the right direction. You know how you always do. The rain had stopped and we set out. But it was a very hard journey back. We were exhausted long before the end – all except Silver: I don’t know what we’d have done without him. We went on for a day and a night without any real rest at all. We all felt that the only thing we wanted to do was to get back here as soon as we could. When I reached the wood this morning I was just limping along in a bad dream. I’m not really much better than poor old Strawberry, I’m afraid. He never complained, but he’ll need a long rest and I rather think I shall too. And Buckthorn – that’s the second bad wound he’s had. But that’s not the worst now, is it? We’ve lost Hazel: the worst thing that could have happened. Some of you asked me earlier this evening if I would be Chief Rabbit. I’m glad to know you trust me, but I’m completely done in and I can’t possibly take it on yet. I feel as dry and empty as an autumn puff-ball – as though the wind could blow my fur away.’